


All I Want For Christmas Is You

by AvaRosier



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: All Human AU, Christmas-themed fic, F/M, Past Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, background Allison/Isaac, past Allison/Isaac/Scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:57:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRosier/pseuds/AvaRosier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if he could feel the heat of her eyes boring holes into him, Scott looked up and jerked up onto his feet to meet her face-to-face. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards and he looked so genuinely happy to see her, that she felt butterflies threaten to burst out of her stomach. Nobody had ever looked at her quite like that before.  “Lydia?”</p><p>It felt natural to smile up at him and she viciously squashed down her nerves and reached up to cup his face.  “Please, please pretend you’ve been my boyfriend for the last three months.” She begged him.</p><p>Bless his heart, Scott got over his shock in three seconds. “Sure.”</p><p>And then Scott was the one cupping her face and Lydia barely had time to prepare herself to be kiss—</p><p>Oh my.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FreshBrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I have never been to Aspen, and have no clue what a ski lodge entails, so I'm making this up as I go. Handwave it, if you would please. Written for the "No Stiles in Your Stocking" Teen Wolf Holidays exchange.
> 
> Happy Holidays, Jessica! Have some romance-novel worthy smutty smut in your stocking this year!

Aspen was gorgeous this time of the year; especially all decked out in the holiday trimmings. Golden lights hung over the town streets and green wreaths adorned with red bows decorated the doorways of the shops and cafés. Lydia didn’t really know what the slopes were like, since she wasn’t a fan of falling flat on her face in front of B-list celebrities.

At present, she was sitting across from Allison in a cozy little corner of the ski lodge nearest to their cabins and wishing that her hot toddy had twice as much brandy. Rufus Wainwright was crooning about how it was cold outside, and Allison was quite possibly doing the worst thing she had ever done in their decade-long friendship.

“Allison, you know I adore you, and I’m happy you’re able to be so utterly absorbed in Isaac Lahey’s everything,” Lydia prefaced with the patient folding of her hands on top of the table, “but this is Christmas and I don’t think it at all acceptable to be pawning off yours and Isaac’s sloppy thirds onto me as a present.”

“Scott is not—“

“I got you two this ski lodge holiday, after all.”

“ _Lydia_ —“

“I know I said I wanted to show Jackson just how over him I am, but I am _not_ that desperate.” It had been an entire nine months since Jackson and she had broken up, and if anyone asked her, Lydia always told them it had been a mutual, mature decision rather than the sordid truth: Jackson had dumped her via text message and proceeded to shack up with the twenty-one year old intern from his father’s law firm.  Both their families had traditionally come to Aspen for Christmas and Lydia had known full well that Jackson would be there. She simply didn’t see a valid reason why she should avoid the vacation spots she loved just because he would be there. Lydia took a large sip of her drink, and was immediately punished by the scalding of her tongue before slamming the glass down on the table to punctuate her point.

Silence fell between the two women, broken only by the crackling of the fireplace several feet away. “Are you done so I can get a word in edgewise?” Allison asked. Her eyebrows were raised as she waited out her best friend’s dramatics.

Lydia only sniffed.

“As I was saying,” Allison continued, “yes, Scott was a part of our open marriage on a temporary basis. We all agreed on that going in. He’s a great friend, amazing with kids, and he has absolutely no problem with alpha females.” The last was pointedly addressed at Lydia. 

“How nice for him, but why would I go out on a blind date with Scott when I could get any of the attractive, available men loitering around the lodge on any given day?” Lydia countered. Allison just smiled at her, the sweet patient smile that Lydia hated so much, the one that said ‘you’re adorable but I’m going to get my way’. That was Lydia’s smile, she had taught Allison that smile. Lydia preferred to blame Allison’s recent nuptials for giving her the spine to think she could set Lydia up with anyone she could possibly be interested in.

Not only that, one of the ‘thirds’ that Allison and Isaac liked to occasionally invite into their beds. Lydia was a very modern and forward-thinking woman, but not that far gone. Granted, she hadn’t picked up a new boy toy in two months, but that was because she was nearly done with her Ph.D. Life was hectic when one was blazing new roads in mathematics and making senior professors cry when their theorems were disproven. Oh, Allison was talking again, Lydia really should listen.

“Lydia, I’ve known you a long time. You have a tendency to date assholes like Jackson, Aiden, your Folklore and Mythology professor, even his niece, Cora.”

“I don’t know why they both got so upset I dated the other," Lydia interjected. "That family is so close they might as well be the new faces of the Folgers Christmas commercial.”

“Don’t change the subject, Lydia!” Allison scolded, stirring her whipped cream into hot chocolate. “I know that deep down, you’re a huge romantic but you’ve spent so long building up walls around your heart that you purposefully seek out people like Jackson because you know you’ll keep them at a distance. Scott isn’t like any of them. Just give him a chance, Lydia.” She wheedled.

“At the very least you might find out just how talented his mouth is.” Allison winked.

Lydia’s interest perked up.

“One date, Allison. _One_.”

                                                                                                                                                ~*~

 

“…and that was a message from President Elizabeth Warren wishing all Americans, home and abroad, a Merry Christmas or happy holidays wherever they may be. In other news, a winter storm is moving over several western states, primarily Wyoming and Colorado. Blizzard conditions are expected on Christmas Eve…”

“Well, that’s just perfect.” Lydia muttered as she zipped up her bright pink Helly Hansen jacket and stomped over to the hallway mirror.  Carefully, she slicked her lips with gloss, checked that her curls were still intact, and gave herself an approving nod before she flounced out of her cabin. She could do this. One boring date, a hour and half of inane chattering over a meal hopefully accompanied by lots of wine, and then she could hit the bar and find someone to spend the evening with.

She had just entered the restaurant where she was meeting this Scott when she was brought up short by the couple standing before her.

“Jackson.” If only the weather system were as dry as her voice in that moment. Jackson turned around and politely swept his eyes over her, a smirk firmly on his face.

“Lydia, I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here. I’m sure you remember Brooklyn?” Lydia gave her her best ‘you are beneath me but I will be polite to you even as I dig my claws into you’ smile.

“Yes, I do. Have you graduated from college yet? I remember you were interning for Mr. Whittemore’s office the during your Junior year, weren’t you?”

The girl smiled back at her, as fake as her eyelashes, but without an iota of the shade that Lydia’s had. _Amateur_. Lydia could understand why Jackson had decided to move on with Brooklyn. She was young enough to blindly stroke his ego and content enough to let her career take the backseat in order to be his groupie.

“Playing third wheel to the lovebirds again, Lydia?” Oh please, if Jackson thought that Lydia hadn’t moved on after their breakup, numerous times, and needed to follow her married friends around like some pathetic lovelorn waif, he had another thing coming. 

“I’ve barely seen Allison and Isaac since we arrived. Scott and I have our own cabin and we’ve kept busy.”

“Scott?”

“Oh, he and I have been dating for the past three months. I’m meeting him here for dinner.” There was a tic in Jackson’s jaw. Excellent.

“How nice. What’s he do?”

“He’s a pediatrician,” she simpered with false pride.

“That's adorable.” He said insincerely.

“It was nice to see you, Jackson. Oh, and you too, Bridget. Do give your parents my regards.” Lydia didn’t wait for their response, giving them a tiny wave before spinning around in her heeled boots and strutting into the restaurant. The open plan meant there was no way Jackson wouldn’t be able to see her and Scott from wherever they ended up being seated. Lydia spied a man her age sitting alone by the enormous windows.

_Scott McCall, you had better be ridiculously attractive and quick on the uptake._

As Lydia bore down upon him, she could make out the dark sweep of his hair away from his forehead and the length of his eyelashes against his cheek as he looked down at his phone. She couldn’t help appreciating the strength in his hands and fingers as his thumbs scrolled over the screen and he chuckled at whatever he read on there. That forest green sweater fit him very well and she could make out just how nice his body was underneath. The collar was unzipped far enough for her to drool over his gorgeous and well-defined collarbones.

As if he could feel the heat of her eyes boring holes into him, Scott looked up and jerked up onto his feet to meet her face-to-face. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards and he looked so genuinely happy to see her, that she felt butterflies threaten to burst out of her stomach. Nobody had ever looked at her quite like that before.  “Lydia?”

It felt natural to smile up at him and she viciously squashed down her nerves and reached up to cup his face.  “Please, please pretend you’ve been my boyfriend for the last three months.” She begged him.

Bless his heart, Scott got over his shock in three seconds. “Sure.”

And then Scott was the one cupping her face and Lydia barely had time to prepare herself to be kiss—

Oh my.

 _Oh my_.

Dimly she was aware of the softness of his lips; of the firm pressure against her own. Scott’s thumb drifted from her cheekbone down to her neck where she felt the answering jump of her heartbeat in her jugular, before ghosting even lower, to where it brushed against the exposed skin below her clavicles.

Lydia opened her mouth and deepened the kiss. No sooner had she wrapped her arms around Scott’s broad shoulders and flicked her tongue against the roof of his mouth, someone was clearing their throat noisily behind her. Reluctantly, Lydia dropped back onto her heels and turned around, feeling more than a little dazed.

A waiter was standing there, awkwardly, unable to pass around the tables until they sat down. Lydia smoothed down her hair unnecessarily and mumbled an apology. Jackson and Bethany stood behind him, watching the scene as if they had swallowed something sour.

“Sorry, we haven’t seen each other all afternoon, it seems.” Scott chuckled, picking up his coat so Lydia could slide into the booth first. Scott sat down next to her, their thighs pressing. Lydia still hadn’t collected her wits, and couldn’t care less what Jackson and Brittany were doing after they had be led to their own table.

Scott was grinning over at her as he rubbed his lips.

“Mm. Tingles.”

“Yeah, my lip-gloss has a menthol-like effect.” She said, scraping her finger around the outline of her lips to clean off the smudged gloss.

“Uh, yeah. That too.”

 

                                                                                                                                                  ~*~

 

Maybe he was overdoing it, but Scott had left the slopes early in order to take a quick shower and put on the nice sweater his mom had gotten him as an early Christmas present before his meeting with Lydia. He wasn’t sure if he should call it a date or not. Allison had warned him that Lydia had a very Type A personality and was used to nice things, but that he should try to give her a chance to show her kinder, more open side.

Stiles had ragged on him pretty heavily for the ‘primping’, but really, what would he know? His last girlfriend, Heather, had dumped him a month ago. Scott had been single for a while since he and Kira had parted ways, their lives simply taking them in different directions. And they’d both accepted that they’d stayed together so long out of habit than anything. Then he’d had a non-serious thing with Allison and Isaac. The three of them had remained friends and accepted Scott when he confessed that he felt like moving on and trying to dip his toes back in the dating scene. He’d like something more serious than Allison or Isaac were offering. 

Hey, it was their marriage.

He’d just finished his pediatrics residency and had accepted a job with Alan Deaton, one of the top pediatricians in the Bay area. He loved his work, but he was grateful that Allison and Isaac had invited him and Stiles out on this holiday. Since Lydia had paid for Allison and Isaac to have their own cabin, the Lahey-Argents had ponied up the funds to help cover a hotel room for him and Stiles. Allison said it was part of her Christmas gift for both Scott and Lydia.

Scott was game for this blind date, even if his palms were sweating a bit. The fireplace did keep things on the toasty side. Allison had shown him a picture of Lydia on her phone, so Scott would recognize her at the restaurant. The picture had looked like a selfie that had been taken when the two women were having a lazy day in, and Lydia had been smiling up at the camera. Scott thought she was beautiful, red hair in a hasty braid and graceful crinkles at the corner of her brown eyes.

Stiles had sent him a text right before he sensed someone walking up to him. When he’d looked up he saw Lydia Martin in all her glory, bearing down upon him with a determined glint in her eye. And then the next thing he knew, he was doing his level best to kiss her as if he had been kissing her for months. Lingering, but still hungry.

In the space of that first impression, Scott learned two things:

One, that Lydia Martin’s eyes were not brown, but a murky green shade that he did not think he had ever seen on another person before.

Two, she kissed like she wanted to consume him. Her hands had combed through his hair, mussing it up and clutching at the strands. Which he had _really_ enjoyed. Scott'd had to take a deep breath after the waiter interrupted them to calm his body down.

When he settled into the booth seat next to her, he finally asked. “Not that I minded, but what was _that_ all about?”

“ _That_ ,” she emphasized, indicating the couple that had just passed them by, “was my ex.  Truthfully, I am over him, but I just wanted…” She paused to think of something sufficiently horrific.

“To make him regret it?”

“With the fire of a thousand suns.” She concurred with an approving nod. Scott winked mischievously at her, bumping his shoudler against hers lightly.

“I can work with that.”

                                                                               

                                                                                                                                         ~*~

 

 

It was oddly liberating to pretend that this stranger was her boyfriend. Lydia kept resting her arm around his shoulders, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. Liberating enough that since they were pretending to be lovers, she decided she might as well skip the usual first date-appropriate questions and be utterly truthful. The bottle of wine they were splitting helped.

“I’ve been accused on more than one occasion of being cold and unfeeling. I can be a selfish bitch, yes, but it’s just not easy for me to show that I care.” She told him in between bites of her tagliatelle with a wild boar ragu.

“I tend to put the people I care about above my own needs, and sometimes they think they can walk over me.” Scott admitted in between forkfuls of his grilled chicken Caesar salad.

Lydia was used to constantly putting on a performance; to double entendres and backhanded compliments and the cold war of barbs and strained wit.  Getting pleasantly tipsy and laughing so hard with Scott until her cheeks were hot and her sides ached was something of a revelation. It was so easy to relax with him and let him inside those brick walls Allison had accused her of having.

They talked about everything, it seemed. Both were only children from broken households.  Favorite colors: purple (hers) and green (his). His mother was his hero, Lydia adored Rosalind Franklin. Their political positions were similar enough, and Lydia’s voice only wavered slightly when she admitted that she did actually envision herself with a bigger family than she’d had.  They compared grad school horror stories, and she couldn’t help falling just a little bit in love with Scott when his face lit up talking about the children he saw at work.

Even though they were currently putting on a performance for Jackson’s benefit, this was the most honest Lydia had been with anyone, save Allison, in perhaps her entire life. As their utensils scraped their plates, the nature of their touches began to change.

The fingers of his left hand caressed the fingers of her right before intertwining them, palms kissing. It was enough to make her nipples tighten and her thighs to rub together a little bit tighter.

“It’s really coming down out there,” she remarked in a non sequitur.

“That it is,” Scott played along.

“I have the entire cabin to myself.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Yes.”

Scott grinned and held his hand up for the check. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

 

 

Lydia didn’t even look back at Jackson and what’s-her-name as they left.

 

                                                                                                                                        ~*~

 

 

The snow was coming down heavily and both Scott and Lydia were shaking off the flakes as they stomped their boots on the mat just inside the door. The fireplace had quieted down in her absence, but after the frigid temperatures they had just stumbled through, Lydia clutching Scott’s bicep for traction as she carefully stepped over the icy pathways, it felt a little bit like heaven. Scott felt so light, as if he were floating, and his smile constantly threatened to burst out of his mouth.  Then Lydia was unzipping his coat and Scott swallowed thickly. Her eyes flashed up to his and _oh, god_.

Scott helped her out of her pink coat, fairly sure he hadn't managed to get it on the hook by the door at all, before letting her guide them through the small living room until they were in front of the couch.  Scott had his lips attached to her the entire time, and his hands were moving up and down her back- covered in an amazingly soft sweater. Lydia bit down on his bottom lip, and Scott groaned into her mouth, nearly undone by the way she swiped her tongue over the ache.  When she ended the kiss, Scott could see, even in the low light, that her pupils were blown. 

"Wait here. I'm going to get supplies." She ordered him before hurrying off in the direction of the bedroom. 

Scott took advantage of her exit to tug his phone out of his pants pocket, fire off a quick text to Stiles ( _Not coming back to the room tonight. Please don't destory it)_ and he was tossing the cell phone onto the end table before she padded back into the living room, her arms laden with stuff. She had removed her boots and socks and he could make out the metallic gold pedicure she had, which matched her nails. Scott studied the 'supplies' with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

"More wine?"

"For later. We'll be thirsty."

"A multipack of condoms?"

"I like variety and multiple orgasms."

"I don't need my penis to give you those, though." He winked. "A candy cane?"

Her saucily raised eyebrow would have been enough to land her on Santa Claus' naughty list. "It might be a bit sticky for you, but I like to alternate between sweet, minty, and salty."

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Scott's brain short-circuited a bit at that one. Lydia took advantage of his mute shock to begin stripping her clothes off. She held his gaze the entire time, divesting her body of item after item. She neither rushed nor used slow artifice. Her sweater was tossed onto the couch, revealing a floral bra and creamy cleavage that Scott couldn't help flickering his eyes downwards for. Her leggings and her matching floral panties soon followed, along with her bra. Scott ached to reach out and touch her, but he waited for her to let him know what she wanted. Nude, with the flamelight dancing over her skin and her hair blazing a path over her shoulders, she was the sirens' call drawing him closer until he was only an inch from her body.

Without words, she began to tug his sweater over his head. Scott yanked it off the rest of the way as she worked the top button of his trousers open. "Off," she commanded, and he obeyed.

The next thing Scott knew, he was crawling over Lydia's body on top of the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace, tasting as much of the skin before him as he was able to. His hands chased his lips, smiling against her ribcage as her belly twitched under his caresses. "Orgasm number one, coming right up." He announced, then kissed his way between her thighs. He loved the smell of her, the uninhibited way she rubbed her pussy all over his mouth, and the tantalizing clench of her inner muscles as they clamped down on his fingers when he brought her to a keening climax with his tongue laving her desperate clitoris. Lydia's hands? Gripping his hair once again.

Scott _really_ liked it when she did that, and all he could do was grind his erection against the rug underneath him.

After several minutes of rest, in which her thighs shook and she panted softly, Lydia encouraged him to roll over onto his back. "There are _a lot_ of things I want to do to you tonight, Scott McCall. But first, I just want to ride you." She reached over and, with economical movements, tore open a condom package before rolling the latex over his cock. He gripped her hips under his hands as she raised herself over him. When she lowered herself onto him, enveloping him in her tight heat, Scott gave in and closed his eyes, moaning at the sensation. 

As soon as he opened his eyes and met her hungry gaze, Lydia leaned forward and began to move. She raised herself and lowered herself back down. She rotated her hips and snapped them in a complicated motion. She did whatever pleased her, and he was content to allow her to use him. "Scott," she moaned, just wanting to say his name. "Scott."

"It's okay, just tell me what you need."

And so Scott touched her in all the ways she wanted him to. He tugged on the long strands of red hair until she shivered, he scraped his nails down her back until she was fucking him in earnest and he was nearly breathless from the grip she had on his cock. And then she slowed the pace down so she could twist her hair up off her neck and hold it on top of her head, forcing her to arch her back and thrust her breasts out. Scott took the initiative and palmed the soft mounds, enjoying the silky feel of her areolae pressing into the sensitive skin of his hand. "Yes," Lydia sighed, rolling her hips slowly but steadily.

They moved together like this for as long as they pleased, intermittently staring into each other's eyes or cataloguing the features of their faces. They learned as many little things about each other that can be learned without words. Scott would jerk and shudder inside her whenever she scraped her nails over his nipples. Lydia responded really well to light spanks against the globes of her ass, which she had directed him to do, and Scott had nearly came from the noises she had made alone.

The dynamic between them changed when Lydia leaned forward, widening her thighs and changing the angles a bit, and asked him (with a please, no less) to grip her hair and pinch one of her nipples. This altered the angle of penetration, and Scott pressed the heels of his feet into the rug for leverage as he thrusted upwards into her. Her movements became jerky and lost their rhythm, and he could feel how close she was given how tight she was milking him right now. Her moans became lower and more drawn out. Scott rolled her nipple in between his fingers and tightened his fist in her hair. And that was it, she went flying apart all around him. He tried his best to keep his eyes open, to watch as her body spasm and shudder as the orgasm rippled through it, to memorize the utter ecstasy on her face, in the furrow of her eyebrow. And then he closed his eyes and let himself come, fucking her through it all.

Not much later, Lydia was combing her fingers through his hair lazily as she kissed him slowly. The aftershocks were still rippling through their bodies but their heartbeats were returning to their normal rhythm. Scott knew this because her entire torso was pressed against the length of his, her breasts smushed against his pectorals. Lydia suddenly smiled against his lips.

"What?"

"You're the best Christmas present I've ever gotten."

His laughter huffed against her cheek. 

"Ditto."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
